


Old Man Jensen

by kanoitrace



Series: Tumblr Fic [10]
Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cockles- sort of, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 09:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2727770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanoitrace/pseuds/kanoitrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had taken more time than Castiel liked to admit to remember to call him Jensen instead of Dean, to remember to answer to Misha instead of Cas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Man Jensen

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt from pharocomics: "Old Man Jensen." Is it Jensen? NO. IT'S NOT. Dean is an old man. A very old, Famine-style man. Cas is his fellow old man that spends day by day in the wheelchair next him as Old Man Jensen yells at the deaf angel. They don't like the little shits that come onto their yard. Death is wondering why the hell they won't just drop dead already. Old Man Jensen is real sassy. Cas just tries to calm him down even though he can't understand a damn word he's saying.
> 
> This did not turn out as angsty as I initially expected it would. It was actually more fun than I thought it would be to write, and now I think I would love to play more in this verse…. god damn it!

"Mother fuckin' kids! Can't keep their shit off our lawn!"

Castiel watched blithely as Dean tossed yet another ball into the growing collection of baseballs, soccer balls, basketballs, basically any kind of sporting ball one could imagine (Castiel was even pretty sure there were a couple of golf balls settled at the bottom of barrel- they'd had to upgrade to a barrel a very long time ago when the laundry basket stopped sufficing).

He must have been staring too long at the ex-hunter's collection, because next thing he knew, Dean was asking, "What's on your mind, Mish?"

He smiled at the nickname. It was nice to know that no matter the time or reality or memories they shared, Dean would always find a was to make Castiel's name his own, even when he was no longer Castiel.

The angel had made the decision many years ago, when he'd realized Dean would never be able to leave the life. The reasons were as much Dean's inability to function outside of hunting as they were the fact the supernatural world at large seemed unwilling to let him go. When Sam had begged him to find a way to get Dean out, to get him somewhere he could be safe and happy, it wasn't as though it hadn't already been a thought on Castiel's mind, but a blessing from the younger Winchester made it possible.

Castiel had used the very last of his grace, all that still tethered him to angelhood, to move them to this dimension- one free of demons and angels and monsters, one where magic was simply fairytale- and changed Dean's memories. It had taken more time than Castiel liked to admit to remember to call him Jensen instead of Dean, to remember to answer to Misha instead of Cas, but he had eventually gotten the hang of it.

Dean's memories from  _before_  were completely fabricated, and instead he now remembered a life as an actor who was married to a beautiful woman with whom he'd had a beautiful daughter. Castiel retained his old memories while also having his own new ones that involved a wife and two wonderful (if not slightly eccentric) children. The two sets of memories were not so different from when he'd once held eons worth of memories as an angel.

It hadn't been perfect. Castiel as Misha had perhaps still wanted more from Dean than either of them were available to give, but he could never complain about the lives they'd led since coming here. Castiel had learned to love his new family, and he'd grown to be happy here. He also got to grow old with Dean; there would be no leaving each other behind.

Daneel and Vicki were now long gone, neither outliving their husbands, and Castiel could certainly admit to missing them both more than he could have ever guessed. JJ, West, and Maison were grown up with families of their own, but they still made it out to visit their stubborn, old fathers. It was a nice life here, with Dean and the growing amassment of sporting equipment.

"Hey! Mish!" Castiel startled out of his reverie at Dean's overly loud call.

"What?" he groused, shooting Dean the stink eye while massaging his poor, aching ears.

Dean shot him a smile, still as brilliant and beautiful in his old age as it had ever been. "Don't tell me you're going deaf, man. You know I gotta have someone to complain to. JJ gets annoyed when I call to bitch about the kids in our yard."

Castiel shook his head. "No, Jen, was simply thinking."

"Care to share with the class?"

Castiel settled his eyes back on the barrel of balls, and a million dirty jokes came to mind (that was another thing that had come with the new life- an increasingly crude sense of humor). "Just that I'm worried your habit of ball collecting is you trying to overcompensate for the shriveled pair you now sport."

Dean snorted a laugh through his nose. "Nah, man, just trying to help you out."

Castiel shot his a lascivious smirk. "Now we both now I'm a virile as I was back when we were shooting the show."

Dean laughed, a full-body laugh that he had adopted when they came here. It wasn't something he had done for everyone, but it was something he had always done for Misha, and it warmed the cockles of Castiel's heart.


End file.
